


Oh No, This is Terribly Wrong

by QueerAsCrystal



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, American Revolution, M/M, Pirates, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerAsCrystal/pseuds/QueerAsCrystal
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a redcoat reluctantly serving in the American colonies for reasons he cannot reveal. His life takes a turn after he is saved by a Frenchman from a surprise dip in the ocean.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a oneshot. I realized it was really long, so I cut it into 2 parts! Enjoy!

Arthur Kirkland found himself disliking quite a lot of things more often than the average person.

            He mused that this attitude of his is what got him to where he was in the first place: a long way away from home and surrounded by a city of people that he either barely knew or didn’t know at all, in this godforsaken city that went by the name of New York. He had hoped that the colonies would be better than London, and in a few ways they were, but less civilized in comparison. The streets still reeked of horse shit and there were still your run-of-the-mill uneducated idiots running about the streets, but it was a different stench and a different cluster of different faces. There were of course, all levels of criminals as well, and Arthur and his fellow subjects were charged with the ever-so-glorious job of patrolling the streets and dealing with these aberrant colonists on a daily basis.

            Most of his days in the colonies were spent patrolling the streets and dealing with any disturbances of peace that should befall the streets of New York. He and his fellow subjects would deal with this “for king and country” and all of his so-called fellow redcoats, especially Arthur himself, knew that this was absolutely a bunch of bollocks. From his eighteen months in this godforsaken continent, he had concluded that the colonies were indisputably the metaphorical trash hole of Europe. He had an inkling of this idea from the moment he boarded the ship and confirmed this fact during the six months he took to get here on said crowded, insufficiently supplied, putrid ship. He knew this because all of the other military men that he was shipped out with had caused some kind of trouble back in Britain, whether in or out of service, and that most definitely included himself.

            Despite his negative outlook on his situation, he was doing pretty well for himself in general. Although reluctant to serve, he had a purpose and a sense of responsibility nonetheless. He also didn’t mind the way things worked here in America. It was different, but it was freer than back in Europe, and he at least enjoyed such liberty in tiny doses when he was able to. The scenery of the city and the general mood was much brighter and upbeat than in stuffy old London and he didn’t mind that either. The weather in the colonies was more extreme than in London, which had always been constantly cold and muggy throughout the year, so a change in climate was certainly appealing.

Arthur disliked quite a lot of things indeed, but today was different, for today he was off from work, which was what he looked forward to all week. Currently, he was walking down the docks after shopping for groceries and enjoying the view of the clear sky that was beginning to change color, another thing he also liked about being in the colonies. However, he didn’t really get enough time to appreciate the nice features of his surroundings, for his thought process was interrupted by the fact that he had somehow been pushed off of the dock and into the ocean.

            It was quite a shock, really. The ocean was awfully cold and the salty water filled his mouth and stung his eyes as he thrashed about and sank deeper into the water, for he did not know how to swim. Looking up above him, he could see the sun shining down through the endless array of bubbles he was making as his lungs and stomach filled with water. _What a way to go,_ he thought, as he was running out of energy to fight back. _Damn it all!_ There was so much left that he wanted to do, but he supposed it didn’t matter now. Wondering what Hell would be like, his arms and legs weakened with the weight of the water and he slowly slipped out of consciousness. The moment he closed his eyes, he could’ve sworn something grabbed his waist.

            And something grabbed his waist, indeed. For the next thing he knew, he could hear a collection of voices surrounding him. However, his attention was focused on his consciousness that was literally being pumped into him. Something warm and soft was on his lips and it was depositing air into his body. Someone was resuscitating him, but who could it be?

 After a few more pumps, Arthur sprang forward and heaved a profuse amount of salt water onto the deck for all to see. He didn’t care about his appearance for the moment and continued to wretch until he was coughing out the last bits that he could as he tried not to cough his own lungs out in the process. When he finished, his arms felt weak and he collapsed. However, two arms caught him before he could hit the floor and pulled him into a lap. Arthur’s eyes were blurred from the tears he produced while he coughed, and he made an attempt to wipe them away, only partially succeeding. The more he realized what was happening, the more embarrassingly unsightly he realized his appearance must have really been.

For goodness’ sake, he was being held in someone’s lap! That he knew, because he could feel the water from their hair dripping. Presumably, this person was his savior. He cleared his tears and focused. A pair of indigo eyes looked to him with concern laced in the features of a beautiful face that held his attention for longer than it should have. Before him was a young man with shoulder-length, wavy ash blond hair and some stubble on his chin. He was very beautiful, indeed. _Maybe God somehow forgave me and sent me to Heaven?_ He wondered.

“Are you okay?” A beautiful voice to match a beautiful face. But that voice… It couldn’t be… There was no way!

His accent was _French_. Of course God wouldn’t be kind to someone like him; Arthur was now certain that he was in Hell, for being held in the lap of some Frenchman after being embarrassedly saved from drowning by the docks seemed like some kind of divine punishment if he could ever think of why such a thing would happen to him.

“Hello?” The man’s face leaned in closer to check for any signs of awareness. _Oh God, why?! What did I do to deserve—_ The man leaned in even closer and Arthur’s eyes widened and he pushed him away. Seeing that he was fine now, the crowd trickled away as everyone else continued with their business.

“Wh-who are you?” Arthur weakly demanded from the floor with a hoarse voice and coughed some more. The Frenchman frowned.

“That’s some way to treat your savior, _mon ami_.” His hands were on his hips now as he looked to Arthur who still lay on the floor, shocked and confused. Although he offered a hand, Arthur glared at it and decided to get up on his own, which made the young man frown once more. “You’re not going to thank me for saving you?”

Arthur was now able to see the man before him at a better view and examined him. ”Y-you were the one who resuscitated me?” the young man nodded. _If he resuscitated me, then that means his lips were on my…_ He looked at the Frenchman’s lips and his face turned bright red as he covered his mouth. “I-I’d sooner die than do that!”

The Frenchman wondered why this young man he just saved was being awfully rude to him, but when he saw him cover up his reddened face, he began to understand. A smirk was on the Frenchman’s face as he looked the other man in the eye. “Could it be that you’ve never had someone else’s lips on your own?” At that, the other young man’s face turned even redder as he avoided his gaze and shakily stood up to wring out whatever water he could from his clothes.

“Absolutely not! That is none of your business, now leave me be!” He sputtered and began to walk away. He scanned around for his groceries which were now floating in the ocean and muttered a string of curses under his breath as he disappointedly watched his dinner’s ingredients bob up and down in the salty water that had almost killed him a few moments ago.

“My name is Francis, by the way. Francis Bonnefoy.” The Frenchman had followed behind him, looking on at what he had been doing with fascination. Arthur jumped a little at the shock of suddenly hearing a voice behind him. Turning around to see that the Frenchman was at an awfully small distance, his face turned bright red once more.

“I never asked for your name!” He snapped as he avoided Francis’s gaze and speedily walked along the dock.

“Your clothes are still wet, why don’t you come to my home and borrow some dry ones before you get sick?” He looked him up and down. Since Arthur’s clothes were still wet, he noticed how handsome his figure was and grinned. “I’m sure I have clothes that would fit you.”

“I have more important business to attend to!”  Looking at the groceries floating in the water once more, he took note of what he had bought and hoped he would still have enough time to buy some more. “I need to go back to market as soon as I can. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He began to take off in the direction of the market, hoping that at least a few vendors would still be open.

“That won’t do, _mon cher_. It would be better if you just came to my house to dry up first. I’ll even cook you dinner.” Francis continued to follow behind even though Arthur was now practically running towards the marketplace.

“I’m already heading this way, so just leave me alone!”

“It’s already late, though. What if they are closed by the time you get there?” His question was met with a tiny bout of silence.

“…I’ll just figure something out, then!”

“Why are you so stubborn?! You could at least let me help you—“ Francis almost bumped into Arthur when he suddenly stopped running. The Englishman’s shoulders slumped down as he looked at the marketplace that had the last few shops finishing closing up for the day.

“Bloody Hell!” Arthur threw his hands up in the air in defeat and sighed.

“Like I said, why don’t you come to my home to get some dinner and dry clothes?” The offer was way too good to pass up, even if it was from a Frenchman.

“…Fine…”

 

 

“So, what’s your name?” Francis asked as the two walked side-by-side, still soaking wet.

“Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.”

“I am glad to meet your acquaintance, _Monsieur_ Kirkland!” Francis made a tiny gesture of politeness as they continued to walk, which only made Arthur roll his eyes.

“You can just call me Arthur.” He said with a little annoyance. “And will you _please_ stop with the French?”

“Hm, does it annoy you, _mon ami_?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“Just stop it, will you?!”

“I can’t help it; it’s the way I speak, Arthur. It is part of my, how do you say… _je ne sais quoi._ ” At this point, Arthur knew that Francis added emphasis on his last few words as a way to prod at him. “It’s like how you use that gaudy British slang in your vocabulary.”

“Excuse you! The way I speak is none of your business!”

“Well, it _is_ if the way I speak has become _your_ business!”

“Why, I never!!!” Arthur knew right from the start that he would despise everything about this annoying Frenchman named Francis Bonnefoy. Realistically, he could have just walked home and scraped up whatever he had left in his pantry, but for some reason, some unfathomable force was telling him that he needed to stay with Francis, despite how much embarrassment and disdain he had already associated with him. Francis had saved his life and was offering to give him dry clothes and a meal, so of course he couldn’t refuse. But it wasn’t just that that kept him at this man’s side. It wasn’t necessarily even the fact that he sensed the unspoken agreement that whatever was said in their ongoing argument would be forgiven. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it almost felt… _natural_ to be by his side.

“We’ve been walking for almost an hour, now. Where in bloody Hell is your house, frog?” Arthur was getting annoyed as they grew to a stalemate in their argument. Both of their clothes were still wet and it was already growing colder as night approached.

“Do not worry, we are almost there, _sourcils_.” Francis winked at him, which caused Arthur to roll his eyes and make the Frenchman chuckle. “Perhaps when we get to my home, we can do something about those bushy eyebrows too, no?”

“My eyebrows are just fine, thank you!” He retorted. “Maybe you should do something about that stupid stubble of yours, it hurt when you— wait, where are you going?” Arthur became distracted as he noticed that the houses kept getting even more extravagant as they kept going. At this point, the houses had been ridiculously large along with the spaces in between each of them.

“The same place we’ve been headed to, _cher_.” He casually replied, trying to hide a smirk.

“But these houses…” They weren’t houses anymore, they were estates! “They’re…”

“What, did you think I was a commoner?” Francis shrugged as he smiled proudly. “We’re almost there.” He pointed at a large, elegant manor that sat atop a hill. “There it is, Arthur.” Arthur stopped in his tracks to gape at the gorgeous house that apparently belonged to Francis. “It’s not going to get any closer if you just stand there.”  He laughed as he led his companion to his home.

Come to think of it, now that Arthur examined Francis, he noticed that his now drier clothes looked finer in comparison to that of the average colonist or subject that he encountered... not to mention his figure as well. He gasped at the thought and shoved it back into the corners of his mind. “Is something wrong?” Francis asked as he turned around.

“N-nothing.” He replied hastily as they reached the front of the manor. Francis began to knock on one of the large doors.

A moment passed and the two stood there in silence. A skeptical look was on Arthur’s face as he stared down the Frenchman who stared back at him with a smirk. The door opened, and from behind it appeared a tall, intimidating man with neat blond hair and blue eyes who seemed to appear as more of a soldier than a servant. “ _Bonsoir_ , Ludwig!” The young man gave a puzzled look at his employer as he opened the door further to let him in.

“Good evening,” he greeted them both. “ _Herr_ Bonnefoy, what happened to the both of you?” Right away, Arthur could tell that Ludwig had a German accent.

“My new friend, Arthur and I,” he gestured to Arthur, “went for a little surprise swim by the docks. I’ll tell you later. But for now, we could use some new clothes, a bath, and a nice warm meal.”

“Right away, sir.” Ludwig nodded. “Please wait in the parlor while I get everything ready.” He gestured to the left where the parlor assumingly was. The two followed Ludwig into the elaborately decorated room and sat down as he began to light a fire in the fireplace. “I will be back with the clothes as soon as possible.” He said as soon as he finished. Quickly, Ludwig walked out of the room and left the two alone. _Wow_ , Arthur thought in amazement. A few seconds later, they could hear Ludwig’s voice yelling out a quick warning before a crash of items could be heard.

“FELICIANO!!!” Another young man’s voice was heard in the distance, now wailing for Ludwig to get something off of him. All the while, Arthur’s eyes were wide open in surprise. On the other end, Francis’s eye was twitching as they both heard the scene take place outside of the parlor.

“I’ll… go check on them.” He sighed. “Why don’t you sit closer to the fire and warm up?”

“Y-yes, that would be a good idea…” With that, Francis quickly darted out of the room to see what was causing the commotion. A few seconds later, Arthur heard a “ _Mon dieu!_ ” come from the foyer.

“It’s okay, sir, I can handle this.”

“Franciiiisss!!!”

“You’re not supposed to call him by his first name, Feliciano!”

“Whoops, sorry, Fra—I mean sir!” He could tell that the distressed young man had an Italian accent.

“No worries, _mon cher_ , let’s just get you up for now.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir, I’ll handle this. You’re still wet, so I suggest you go back to the fireplace with your guest.”

“Fine, fine. Are you sure you two will be alright?” Arthur couldn’t hear them reply, so he assumed that they nodded. “Alright, then. Ludwig, when you’re done, don’t forget the clothes for both of us. And Feliciano, I want you to prepare dinner when you’re ready. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” They both replied in unison.

“ _Tres bien!_ I will attend to my guest now.”

As soon as he heard that, Arthur scrambled back next to the fire. He sat there, smiling and trying to suppress a laugh, which he failed at. Francis entered the room to see Arthur shaking with laughter at what he had just heard.

“They’re not usually this clumsy.” Francis said with a reassuring smile. Looking at his guest, he noticed that Arthur was giggling by the fire. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just—“ He continued to laugh. “I thought your home would be all prissy and French with prissy French servants, but you have a German butler looking after a clumsy Italian chef!”

“And?” Francis put his hands on his hips, expecting an insult that he was ready to dispute.

Arthur laughed some more and settled down so he could wipe a tear from his eye. “I just find it very amusing.” A little smile was on his face, which caused an amused look from Francis.

“Hm? That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.” He smiled in return. “You should do that more often.”

“…Shut up.” Arthur grew embarrassed and looked back into the fire. “Now that I think of it, I don’t remember the last time I laughed like that.” _Or smiled, for that matter._ A pensive look was now on his face.

“Is that so?” Francis asked as he walked towards his guest to join him by the fire. “I’m guessing you haven’t been living a very exciting life as of late until now?”

“And who said it was exciting only now?”

“ _I_ did, since you met me.” Francis brushed his hair back and winked at Arthur, who rolled his eyes.

“Oh, shut up.”

“But Arthur, it is not every day that someone as gorgeous as me happens to see you get knocked into the ocean by some kids running by and goes out of his way to save you.” He chuckled.

“Are you serious?! Is _that_ what happened?! I almost _died_ today because some brats didn’t watch where they were going?!” Arthur let out an exasperated sigh and tucked himself into his knees. He mumbled, “By the way, I never got to properly thank you.”

“Hm? What was that?” Arthur snapped his gaze from the flames to turn his head and speak directly to his host.

“I said that I never got to properly thank you yet…” He looked to the floor. “Or to apologize for being such an arse earlier… I was in such a state of shock that my manners disappeared, as you could tell.” He released his knees and sat properly so that he could convey his message, “So… thank you, Francis. And… I’m sorry for being an arse to you earlier.”

The sincerity from this soggy Englishman was clearly conveyed to Francis and it pierced at his heart more than he thought it should have. “It is my pleasure.” He smiled. There was a small moment of silence before either of them spoke. “So, was that really your first time having someone else’s lips on yours?”

Arthur’s face heated up again. “Here I was trying to be serious and you’ve just got to ruin it!”

“What are you making such a big deal about it for? You know, greeting people with a kiss is common in France.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, this _isn’t_ France and I’m quite sure it’s not always on the lips, you—” He stopped speaking as he heard someone knocking on the door. It was Ludwig with their change of clothes.

“One moment.” Francis got up to answer the door and it was indeed Ludwig.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Shall I have the dining room prepared?” He said after he handed him robes for the two of them.

“There’s no need, Ludwig. We’ll eat here since the fire is already on,” Francis turned to Arthur, “if that is fine with our guest.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Also, please bring out my finest wine for later; _Monsieur_ Kirkland here narrowly escaped death today, and I think that is a cause for celebration, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” With that, Ludwig nodded and left the two alone once more.

Francis turned around with two bundles of robes, looking through what his butler had delivered, delightedly murmuring in French. After he was finished, he perked up and looked towards Arthur. “Here we are, Arthur!” He trotted over to his guest and presented him with a fine silk robe. “I’m sure you’re famished, so these robes will have to make due for now until after we bathe.” Arthur gratefully took the robe and began to stand up with Francis lending him a hand. Afterwards, Francis went to the seats by the fireplace and put his robe down on the cushions, then proceeded to undress.

“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?!” Arthur was taken aback by this man’s shamelessness to get naked in front of someone he had just met.

Francis stopped in his tracks as he was almost finished removing his damp breeches in order to speak. “Hm? Isn’t it obvious?” He turned around as he finished removing his garments and was now naked before his guest.

“Oh God!” Arthur covered his eyes and blushed. “You could at least go in a corner or something!” He looked at Francis once more. “I-I don’t even know where to look!”

Francis took notice of Arthur’s face flush after a glance at the lower area of his body and a smirk came to his face. “Why, _mon cher_ , you may look wherever you want for as long as you want!” He stepped forward, presenting his naked body proudly.

“Seriously, put some clothes on already!” Arthur demanded with his eyes shut tightly this time.

“Alright. Fine, fine.” He chuckled as he turned around. “I’m changing now. You can uncover your eyes.”

“Thank heavens…” Arthur said as he lowered his hand and opened his eyes, only to see Francis’s backside in its purest form. There was a pause as he processed what he saw. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of him for a good ten seconds until sense came back to him in a wave of fury. “BLOODY HELL, FRANCIS, YOU SAID YOU WERE CHANGING!!!” Arthur fell back with eyes wide open and his heart beating quickly. He really wished he hadn’t seen such a beautiful backside.

Francis chuckled as he slowly put his robe on. “I did, but I never said how much I had on.”

Arthur began to mutter, “And now, I suddenly despise you even more…” He continued saying things under his breath that were incoherent as he got up and looked for a place to change.

As he put the robe on, he noticed that it had a certain sweet scent that smelled of fine wine and a hint of musk. _So that’s what he smells like?_ He thought to himself.

 “You forgot that piece of cloth wrapped around your arm.” Francis pointed out and unknowingly snapped Arthur out of his thoughts. Arthur turned around incredulously.

“Were you watching me change?!”

“Oh? But you were watching _me_ change. I thought it would only be fair.”

“You bastard!!!” Arthur quickly tied up his robe and darted his way to Francis so he could punch him, but Francis caught his arm and held it firmly. He looked the blond in the eyes and moved his attention to the black piece of cloth tied around his right forearm just above his wrist. With complete fascination, he began to untie the cloth from his arm. “No, don’t!!!” It was too late, though. The cloth was off, but Francis only caught a fleeting glance of some kind of small burn mark on his forearm where the cloth was, for Arthur had swiftly moved his other hand to cover it up.

At that moment, Francis realized that he had struck a chord that he shouldn’t have. With eyes wide, he let the Englishman go and allowed him to pull his sleeve over the mark on his arm. A different, tenser air was about Arthur now. “How much of it did you see?”

“I’m sorry, Arthur.”

“How _much_ of it did you _see_ , Francis?” There was a chilling firmness in his voice that compelled him to obey; it felt almost as if he were a captain giving him an order.

“All I saw was what looked like a burn mark, that’s all.” Francis answered honestly. “I’ll pretend that didn’t happen, okay?” He gave a contemplative smile. “After all, we all have our secrets, don’t we?”

“…Alright.” Arthur looked to the floor, firmly keeping his grip on his arm where the cloth once was.

A silent moment passed until Ludwig knocked at the door. “Dinner, sir.”

Francis instantaneously perked up. “Wonderful!” He grabbed Arthur’s hand and led him to the door to open it so that Ludwig would have an easier time bringing the cart into the room. “Our dinner is here, Arthur! Let us feast like kings!”

 

 

Just as Arthur expected, the dinner was delicious, the bath was exquisite and the clothes he was lent were the finest he had ever seen in the colonies.

What he did not expect, however, was that he would be sitting in some fancy French parlor at nearly midnight, having an inebriated squabble with an almost, if not, equally inebriated host.

“Like I told you, my eyebrows are jus fine, ya wanker!” At this point, Arthur was slurring his words.

“Are you kidding me?! ‘ave you looked in a mirror recently? They’re thicker than your skull if you think they’re perfectly fine!!!” Francis argued back.

“Why do you even care about me eyebrows?! You should do something about tha piss poor attitude that ya rich people adopt about other peoples’ looks!” Arthur retorted as he pointed his finger at Francis.

“I’m just saying that some maintenance would make you even more attractive, _mon amie_!”

The subtle compliment flew right over his head and an irritated look was on his face as he spoke. “Not erryone ‘as to fit to ya stupid standards!” He reached for his glass of wine that was now empty and tried getting their third bottle to pour some more, but Francis took it away. Angrily, he reached for the bottle and Francis pulled it away further. “Lemme ‘ave s’mmore! I can handle it!”

“I think you’ve ‘ad enough.” Without another word, a serious expression was now on Arthur’s face. In the blink of an eye, his face became so close to Francis’s that their noses were just about to touch. Francis was caught off guard by his beautiful green eyes that were reflecting the light of the fire and couldn’t help but to stare. Arthur smiled at his success and snatched the wine bottle from Francis’s hands then pulled back.

“Haha! Take ‘at, wanker!” He laughed loudly while tossing the wine bottle from one hand to the other. “’aven’t used that one in a while, but it works errytime!” He laughed once more before looking at his spoils… only to find out that the bottle was empty. Arthur then began to mutter out a bunch of incoherent words under his breath which were very likely unpleasant.

Francis began to laugh after he recovered and realized what happened to Arthur. “That’s what you get, _mon cher_!”

“Bollocks!” He yelled as he threw the empty bottle to the floor and slumped down from where he was in order to lay on the carpet. “An’ you!” He pointed at Francis once more as he rolled to a comfortable position. “I am NOT your _‘dear,’_ so will you _stop_ calling me that?!”

               It took a few seconds for Francis to process as he looked at Arthur incredulously. “ _Parlez-vous français?_ ”

               “ _Pas question! Je déteste parler français!_ ” Francis grew even more confused at what Arthur had just said. _Did he just deny speaking French… in perfect French? God, he is such a terrible drunk._

“Also, you rich people‘re all so disappointing!” Without warning, Arthur’s mood changed. He suddenly appeared to be bitter and miserable now as he curled up into a ball on the floor. “It’s rich people who got me into this stupid situation ‘n’ what landed me in this godforsaken continent in the first place!” His tone grew more serious.

“Uh, Arthur…” This was being taken a little farther than he intended it to be and Francis was ready to take care of him before his guest did something he would regret. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.” He reached for Arthur who was still lying on the floor.

“No, you listen here, you!” He said as he rolled away from him and held his wrapped arm out. “You wanted to know about this, didn’t you?”

“It’s okay, you can just tell me another time when you’re sober.” He said cautiously.

“Oh, shut up! I can see it in your eyes. I can tell you want to know about this stupid thing!” He growled. His expression softened as he paused to stare at it. All drunkenness in his tone had disappeared for a brief moment as he spoke. “It’s a reminder that I’m lucky to be alive.”

Francis was taken aback by his words. _Oh no, this is wrong_ , he thought. _He’s not in the right state of mind; he shouldn’t be telling me something like this!_ He knew this well enough, despite how much he wanted to learn about it and what happened to this man for him to have such a thing and to be ashamed enough to feel the need to cover it up. “Arthur, let’s take you to bed now.” He sighed.

“I’m not done yet!” He protested as Francis carefully helped him up.

“It’s fine, Arthur. You can tell me in the morning.” He looked at the clock and it was well into midnight. The servants were supposedly fast asleep by now, so it would have to be up to Francis to take care of him. “I think it would be better if you spent the night here anyway.” His point was further proven as Arthur struggled to stand on his own.

“Shut up, you frog.”

“Alright, let’s go upstairs.”

“Fine.”

 

The journey upstairs was somewhat difficult, considering how heavily Arthur was leaning on him and the fact that he squirmed a lot, but it wasn’t anything Francis couldn’t handle.

He led Arthur to his bedroom and carefully placed him on his bed in a sitting position. “Wait here, Arthur. I’m going to see if any of the guest rooms are prepared. I didn’t expect any visitors today.” He made sure that his guest was sitting upright as he was supported by one of the legs of the bed’s canopy before he could leave him. However, Francis was stopped by a tug of his sleeve when he turned around to leave. “Hm? What is it, Arthur?”

Arthur mumbled as he looked down, and Francis could only make out the last word of his sentence. “—please.”

“What? I can’t understand you.” He got closer, but Arthur still refused to let him go.

“Stay.” He said weakly as he looked into his eyes. His demand seemed rather childish, yet how could Francis ever hope to resist this expression that Arthur gave him?

He sighed. “I suppose it would be more convenient for the both of us.” He looked at his guest who was now growing tired. _God, he’s so cute like this. Why couldn’t he be this way in the first place?_ Francis asked himself with a tender smile. “Alright, fine. Let’s get ready for bed, Arthur.”

 

Francis Bonnefoy awoke to the feeling of another person’s warmth close to him in his bed.

Still half-asleep, he reached for the hand and smiled once he held it. It had been quite a while since he had someone to share his bed with him. The hand was bigger and rougher than the ones he had been used to holding. Opening his eyes, he recalled that the person he had shared his bed with was Arthur Kirkland, the man he had saved from drowning at the docks the previous day and not who he thought it was at first. A little gasp came from him as he realized what he had done. He gently let go of the hand, but that was enough to awaken his bedmate.

Arthur grumbled. “Turn the sun off, it’s too loud.” This caused Francis to smile.

“Sadly, I cannot do that, _mon cher_.” At this, one of Arthur’s eyes opened in shock to hear that he actually got a response. He opened his other eye and slowly got up to find out where he was. “Good morning!” A cheerful Francis greeted as he caught the Englishman’s attention.  This, in turn, was greeted with a huge yelp from him as he discovered his presence.

“BLOODY HELL!!!” Arthur shrieked as he backed up and fell off of the bed and onto the floor. All of a sudden, his hangover caught up with him and he gripped his head. “Why do I feel like I got struck in the head with a horse?!” But his blurred memory of last night answered his question. He pressed his eyes shut. “Oh God, I’m hung over, aren’t I?”

“It seems so.” Francis said, amused with Arthur’s reaction. “Would you like me to help you back up so that you can get some rest? I doubt the floor would make your hangover any better,” he chuckled.

Arthur opened his eyes from his splitting headache to look at the source of the voice. A shirtless Francis was getting off of the bed to help him back up, but as he continued forward, Arthur realized that Francis was naked. “Wh-why don’t you have any c-clothes on?!”

“It’s more comfortable for me to sleep nude.” He replied, proudly showing off his body.

“Wait…” Arthur said as his heart grew still for a brief second. “D-don’t tell me we _did_ anything last night…” Horror was clearly obvious in his eyes as he looked at Francis.

Francis smirked. “If you mean drinking you under the table, then yes.” Arthur still had a skeptical look on his face as he proceeded to examine himself. “What are you doing?” Francis asked curiously.

“Checking to see if you tried anything funny.” He said as he held his hand over his right arm where the cloth was and checked for anything unusual on himself.

Francis gasped. “I would _never!_ I would not dare to touch you like that.” He paused and grinned, “Unless you want to…?” His suggestion was greeted with silence, but he could tell that Arthur was embarrassed from what he said.

“N-not in a million years!” He spat. His outburst only worsened his headache and he gripped his forehead, which Francis took as a cue to help him back into bed. “Remind me to never drink again.” He groaned.

“Hm? ‘Again,’ you say? Does this mean we will be seeing each other after this?”

“…Shut up, frog.” Francis took this as a ‘yes’ and chuckled.

“Alright then, Arthur. I’ll call for some breakfast for both of us.”

 

At first, Arthur was a little worried about what Ludwig would think once he saw them in bed together, but at that point, he was too hung over to care.

In fact, he was too hung over to even care about anything but eating and sleeping off this terrible feeling.

After waking up for the eighth time, though, he realized that he had to work today. “BLOODY HELL!” He yelled upon realization. Staggering from Francis’s bed, he set out to look for his host who said he would be filling out papers in his office.

After trying several doors, he found Francis at his desk, signing papers as he had said he would be. “Are you feeling better now?” He asked as he looked up from his work.

“What time is it?! I forgot I have work today!” A surprised look was on Francis’s face.

“Oh, my apologies! I forgot to ask if you had work. It’s almost afternoon, _mon cher_.”

“Are you kidding me?! My shift started _five_ hours ago!!!”

“ _Mon dieu!_ ” Francis’s eyes were widened at the news. He sat there and looked down to think for a few seconds. “Well, you can’t work in the condition you’re in. Perhaps you can tell them that you were sick?”

“I absolutely can’t do that; they will have my head for being this late! I _need_ to get back right now!”

Francis frowned, “Well, that won’t do.”

“What in bloody Hell, do you mean that won’t do?! How else could I possibly make up for this?!”

“I’ll send Ludwig over.” He said as if it were the simplest solution.

“What on earth could your butler do to fix this?!”

“I’m sure that almost everyone in the colonies compromises with the right amount of pounds.” He gave a slight shrug. “Now tell me, where do you work?”

“Hold on a moment, you’re going to _bribe_ my commander?!”

“I don’t see any other solutio—wait, commander?”

“Yes, I’m stationed at the nearby garrison.” He could tell that Francis was doing his best to hide his shock. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. It just caught me by surprise is all…” He rested his chin on his knuckles as he looked back and forth from the floor and to Arthur as if he were trying to make a decision. When he stopped, he stood up from his desk. “I’ll send for Ludwig now. You should go back to bed. Do you need anything before you leave?”

“No, but thank you.”

“Alright, then. Rest up, _mon cher_ , I will handle this.”

Arthur’s curiosity wanted to demand more answers, but his splitting headache made him decide otherwise, so he headed back to bed to sleep off the rest of his hangover.

 

 

Late afternoon hit and Arthur left so that he could buy more groceries, remembering only after he was dropped off by carriage, that he was still wearing Francis’s clothes.

The only way that he could exchange his clothes back would be to meet up with him again, which is what he asked Ludwig to arrange.

However, the two of them couldn’t come to an agreement on when to meet and had the exhausted butler constantly going back and forth for several days to deliver their responses.

It was after the seventh letter exchanged between them that Arthur stopped getting a response. After a long day of patrolling the streets, he grew rather disappointed to see that there wasn’t a letter waiting for him.

“I don’t need them if it’s this much trouble, anyway.” He grumbled as he prepared for bed, trying to shake off the thought of that annoying, stubborn Frenchman that he did nothing but argue with. He didn’t need, or rather, he didn’t _want_ anything to do with that pain in the ass, anyway. Their worlds weren’t even meant to mix; Francis was a stuck-up rich boy with the world at his fingertips while Arthur was just an indentured servant to the crown that lived a life that his circumstances gave him no other choice but to live. He felt stupid to think that someone like Francis would bother with someone like him for long…

 

 

But Arthur was wrong.

This was made known by the fact that after his night and morning of brooding, an unexpected visit came upon him as he patrolled the streets of New York.

It was out of the corner of his eye, but Arthur could have sworn that he saw a familiar face. Dismissing it, he continued as usual. It wasn’t until some annoying and constant whistling had finally caught his attention. He realized that it had in fact, been Francis following him around incognito for the past God knows how long. Arthur made up an excuse to his partner so he could leave his station and find out what his annoying whistler wanted. Once Arthur turned the corner into a nearby empty alley, he beckoned the Frenchman over.

“What in _bloody Hell_ do you think you’re doing here?!” Arthur hissed as he tried to keep himself from yelling at the top of his lungs at his impertinence. “And calling for my attention in such a way too!” Arthur scowled, but deep down, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his chest.

“I was getting tired of waiting for a reply every day, so I went to find you myself.” Francis shrugged as he gave out that same arrogant smile that Arthur always associated him with. He examined Arthur up close in his uniform. “ _Mon dieu_ , now that I look at you up close, I understand why I hear some of them call you ‘lobster backs.’” He chuckled.

“Shut your mouth, frog! It’s not like the choice in uniform is up to me!” He snapped as he crossed his arms.

“But red looks good on you; don’t worry, _mon cher_.” He smiled, which took Arthur aback for half a second and made him fight an inkling of giddiness that was building up within him.

“Anyway, do you have my clothes from last week?” His arms went back to his sides as he spoke. “I don’t have yours on hand at the moment since I’m currently on duty, though.”

“Oh, that’s fine... Actually, I forgot your clothes at my home.” He gave a little nervous laugh.

“THEN WHAT’S THE POINT OF YOU BEING HERE?!” Arthur blew up before he realized that he did and instantly covered his mouth with both of his hands as his green eyes were widened with shock.

“I uh…” Francis looked off to the side with a nervous grin and began to scratch his stubble with his index finger. “I just wanted to see y—“

 “Forget it,” Arthur lowered his voice and interrupted Francis as he searched around for anyone nearby that may have heard them. “Just meet me at my flat in a couple hours or so. I’ll be off duty by then.” He gave Francis directions to where he lived and sent him off so that he could go back before his partner became suspicious.

 

 

“ _Bonsoir_ , Arthur!” Francis was as cheerful as ever as he entered through Arthur’s door later that evening.

It was a simple flat that Arthur lived in. There was nothing particularly impressive about it, but it seemed cozy, in the least. One thing that stood out, however, was the smell of smoke coming in from the kitchen. At this, Arthur rushed back to his oven and cursed as he took out the charred remains of whatever was left of the food he attempted to make.

“Oh, sod this!” He mumbled with a clenched jaw as he quickly opened the window and tossed the burnt pieces in the wastebasket. He returned to Francis, who was sitting there with a bundle of clothes in his lap. “Sorry about that, I believe something is wrong with this oven.” He apologized as he flashed a scowl towards his kitchen.

Francis put the bundle aside and got up from his seat so he could walk towards the kitchen to investigate. “Is that so? Let me see, then.”

“No, wait! The smoke is still clearing out!” However, this did not stop Francis and he continued on through the clearing smoke.

“Hm… What were you trying to make?” He examined the oven and the remains of Arthur’s cooking which was charred far beyond recognition.

“…Dinner…” Arthur crossed his arms and looked off to the side, trying to hide his embarrassment. 

Francis stayed there for a moment, rubbing his chin until he finally spoke. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with the oven...” He said and waved away more of the smoke coming from it. Looking closer inside, he began to laugh at what he found, which was the burnt over remains of other types of mysterious food bits all over the oven, most likely from various attempts at baking. “Arthur, I think you’re just a terrible cook.”

Arthur grew angry. “How dare you come into my home and say such a thing!”

“Well, someone has to tell you before you waste more good food.” He replied with a playful smirk.

“Not all of us have the luxury of having your kind of fancy food every day!”

“Don’t turn this on me! My point is that being able to cook decent food is an essential, _mon cher_. How could you not know how to cook properly after all of these years?”

“And you do, rich boy?” Arthur challenged.

“Why, of course! I may have people to cook food for me, but I am not completely helpless.” He brushed his hair back with pride, making Arthur quickly catch his breath. This caused Francis to smirk. “Perhaps I can at least show you how to make something foolproof?”

Arthur was too busy trying to swat away the unnecessary thoughts scrambling through his mind to even notice that Francis had asked him a question. “Hm, what?”

“I said,” He was now enunciating in an irritably slow manner. “I want to show you how to make some food properly.” He continued to speak as he normally did. “Would that be okay?”

“…Oh, uh…” Arthur was a little dumbfounded at his generosity once more. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

Francis smiled. “Alright, then show me what you have.”

 

Preparing dinner with Francis Bonnefoy was quite eventful, to say the least.

From supposedly unintentional hand brushes to standing a tad bit too close together, Arthur could tell that this man was openly flirting with him every step of the way. _What in God’s name does this man think he’s doing?!_ Arthur wondered as Francis gave instructions while slowly placing a hand around his waist. Arthur had to move to get something from one of the shelves, which made Francis’s hand slip down to his rear.

“Francis!” Arthur barked at the man who now released him with a look of submissive surprise. He moved his face closer and looked him in the eyes. Again, their faces were so close, that their noses would have touched if he had moved so much as a few inches forward. “If you’re going to grab my arse,” Arthur now spoke in a low voice, “you’re going to have to do it right, like _this_.” An unnoticed hand had slid down to Francis’s side and now grabbed at his derrière with a grip so firm that it made the Frenchman gasp.

“Oh...” He replied with widened eyes, completely caught off guard.

“Anyway, where were we?” Arthur turned back to the pot of stew with a smirk he tried to hide with an aloof demeanor.

_So that’s the game he’s going to play?_ Francis thought to himself as he recovered from his little state of shock. A smile was now on both of their faces as they continued to make dinner.

 

With Francis’s patient instruction and help, Arthur was finally able to cook a decent meal that actually _was_ delicious.

As grateful as he was, he would rather die than let Francis know such a thing, for he knew that Francis would poke at him for that, and he didn’t need him to have more fodder for their future arguments.

 Surprisingly, the two of them ate their dinner together and had a normal argument-free conversation for the first time since they had met. However, the peace did not last much longer. Arthur had been describing how tiresome his job was until Francis suddenly changed the subject after looking at him with a contemplative expression. “Your accent… You must be from London, no?”

Arthur lost his train of thought as his guest spoke. After processing what he had been asked, he replied, “What are you going on about so suddenly?”

“If I’m not mistaken, it sounds like an upper class accent too.” Arthur froze for a moment.

“And even if you were right, what would it matter to you?” His eyebrows furrowed as he reached for his drink.

“What is someone like you doing patrolling the streets of New York for a living? Does it have something to do with that mark on your arm?”

Arthur was taken aback by his perceptiveness. “I thought you said you weren’t going to bring that up!”

He continued divulging his thoughts nonetheless. “The night you visited my house, you told me something very interesting about it. Do you remember?”

Arthur’s brows creased further as he looked down into his now empty cup and put it down. “…What did I tell you?”

“You told me it was ‘a reminder’ that you’re ‘lucky to be alive.’ Why is that?” As Arthur looked on apprehensively at his guest, he could tell that there was no hint of ill intent behind his question. As far as he could see, Francis might actually be _genuinely_ concerned about him, and strangely enough, that was the greatest cause of his anxiousness.

Francis could see that Arthur was visibly growing anxious, and he suddenly felt guilty for letting his curiosity get the better of him. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer. I was just—“

“Why do you care so much, anyway?!” Arthur interrupted as he stood up at the table. “I’m nobody anymore! You have _nothing_ to gain from me!”

Francis sat there with an unreadable expression on his face as he looked to Arthur. “…I’m not sure—”

“I’m sorry, this was all a mistake. Please just forget about all of this…You know what, I’ll just take your dishes and you can be on your way out.” He proceeded to collect the dishware and avoided looking up at him. _What am I saying?_ A tiny part of him wondered. _Even if he actually cares about me, it probably won’t last long. …But I… No, this is terribly wrong._ As much as he wanted to push him away, Arthur felt drawn to this man. Maybe even a little too much for his liking, and he couldn’t fathom why. Was it fate? Or perhaps, was it the loneliness locked away inside him that made him think about this man after every normally functioning thought that ran through his mind? What in this world made his heart skip a beat for seeing him do the smallest things like brushing his beautiful hair from his face? Everything about Francis Bonnefoy he loathed, and yet he couldn’t get enough of him. Arthur had come to the conclusion that something was wrong with himself. Something was terribly wrong.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Francis interrupted his thoughts as he grabbed Arthur’s arm and pulled him in so that they were face to face. “I’m not sure why, but I find you very fascinating, Arthur.” He stood there astonished as Francis held onto him and refused to let go. “Also, what about all of this is a mistake to you? I’m not sure why out of all the people in the world it would be you, but ever since the moment we met that day, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. When you’re before me, my heart beats so fast and I can’t think straight.” He was now holding his shoulders and looking him in the eye. “What about that is a mistake? How can such a wonderful feeling of falling for you be a _mistake_?!” His words cut deep into Arthur’s heart and they both felt a stinging sensation in the back of their eyes from the raw emotion as they stood there and stared at each other. Francis let go and his expression and voice softened. “I know you’re hiding something, but even before I knew you were, I’ve been quite interested in you, even _drawn_ to you as if it were almost natural to be close to you.”

_Oh no, not you too_ … What Francis had conveyed caused something to catch in Arthur’s breath as he stared back. Dear God, how he felt the same way! _No, you can’t love someone like me! This is wrong. This is terribly wrong, but..._ “Francis, why are you—“

            “And I still am.” Before he could completely reply, Francis grabbed Arthur’s chin and leaned in to place a kiss on his lips. Arthur’s eyes widened as he unintentionally dropped the dishes he was carrying with a loud crash. They both yelped with pain as their feet served as the landing cushions for the dishware. “Are you okay?” He looked from their feet to the now broken dishware on the floor. “Oh! They’re broken, I’m so sorry!”

             “Sod the dishes!!!” Arthur heatedly said as he grabbed Francis by the collar to roughly return the kiss. _Oh, fuck it._ He gave in. Francis grabbed him back and they both began to grope at each other as they continued to kiss, becoming more and more aggressive as they went along.

            It wasn’t until they made a mess in the flat and Arthur was lying on the couch with Francis on top of him and unbuttoning his shirt that he snapped out of whatever heated trance he was in. _What am I doing?_ He knew this probably shouldn’t be happening, but whatever Francis was doing with his mouth on the crook of his neck felt absolutely amazing. He gave in to it for a moment until he couldn’t stand it anymore and had to stifle a moan that involuntarily came from his throat. He felt strange in the lower half of his body and that was when he knew.

            “Stop… _STOP!_ ” Arthur pushed Francis away from him and covered his mouth, now out of breath.  Francis immediately pulled back with a quizzical expression. Panting, Arthur looked at himself and realized that this had gone farther than it should have ever gone. With shock in his eyes, he sat up. “What have I done?!” he said as he rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in both hands. “…Oh no, this is terribly wrong…”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wro—“

Arthur looked back up briefly to reply, “What in bloody Hell do you mean ‘nothing wrong?!’ You’re some prissy noble and I’m just some lowly guard! There’s no way this would even work!”

“I’m not interested in what you do for a living, I’m interested in you.”

“…Y-you barely even know me!”

“Then I’ll get to know you more.” He shrugged.

 “…We’re not even supposed to like each other! I mean, you’re _French_ and I’m _British_!”

“This is America. That kind of thing only really matters on the other side of the ocean.” He leaned in closer.

Arthur withdrew, yet still managed to make steady eye contact with him. “We’re both _men_ , Francis! We can’t do this! It’s just not… right…” Arthur’s shoulders fell and he trailed off as remorse spread across his face.

“I don’t see why that should matter, _mon cher_.” He said gently as he sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulder which Arthur brushed off. “Like I said earlier, how could these feelings be a mistake? Why on Earth would it be wrong? Because it ‘matters’? To whom, then? Arthur, it only ‘matters’ because some people decided that it does. And what we do together is absolutely none of their business.” Arthur looked to Francis with a pensive expression. “Who are they to dictate how we should feel? I don’t see why everyone shouldn’t be free to love whomever they choose, no matter what sex they are.” He leaned in. “And I’m very much attracted to you, Arthur Kirkland, and I know the same goes for you, so I refuse to give up on you so easily.” The overconfident smile that Francis wore sent a wave of embarrassment surging through Arthur’s body as he looked away with crossed arms.

Arthur huffed and mumbled under his breath. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Hm? Do I hear an invitation?” Francis asked with a little smirk as Arthur discovered how close his face was to his own.

Arthur flinched and backed away further on the couch. “You bloody wanker, don’t you touch me!”

“Alright, if you say so.” A mischievous smirk was on his face as he moved his hands away and held them up for assurance. Francis looked out the window and his eyes lit up as if he remembered something and said, “It’s getting late, so I think I should go back home now.” He stood up and Arthur showed him out. “ _Au revoir, mon cher_.” He winked as he left through the door, catching Arthur off guard and causing him to slam it in front of Francis. He could hear a little chuckle coming from the other side as the Frenchman walked away humming happpily.

He hissed under his breath. “…Stupid frog!”

 

 

That night, Arthur lay in bed with Francis’s words swimming through his mind relentlessly.

_Did he really mean what he said or is he just trying to get into my pants?_ Arthur pondered for quite a while. His twenty-three years of unique life experiences caused him to be uncertain about peoples’ intentions, and subsequently, Francis’s sincerity, despite the fact that he saved his life not too long ago and showed that he cared about him. Here in the colonies, Arthur never really bothered to make friends and he kept to himself during his spare time. It had been quite a while since someone actually took interest in him, so having such a thing confessed to him directly was quite strange, and most likely too good to be true. But for goodness sake, Francis outright said that he loved him! Hell, they snogged until his living room was a complete mess! And now, he just gave that bastard permission to pursue him. Arthur sighed deeply. Deep down, he knew that this was going to be more trouble to him than he could possibly imagine.

 

After a few weeks, Arthur knew he was right about his premonition.

He knew this because this was the third… maybe even the fourth time that Francis had found him and snuck around where he was stationed and proceeded to either flirt with or make weird faces at him while he was on duty. The worst part was that he did it when he knew only Arthur was looking. At this point, Arthur couldn’t tell if he was either more angry or amused at what he had been doing.

“If this is your idea of trying to win me over, it’s not working!” An exhausted Arthur scolded Francis who was still giggling at how flustered he had made him today.

“But it _did_ get you to finally come to me, didn’t it?” That stupid, smug smile was on his face again.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips as he delivered a punch to Francis’s arm. “Stop doing that, you bloody frog! My colleagues are already starting to think I’m going mad!”

“Then tell me when you’re off duty so I can see when we can meet.”

Arthur exasperatedly sighed and brushed his hair back, unintentionally causing Francis to catch his breath at the sight. “Fine. Come to my place in an hour and I’ll write it out for you.”

“A-alright.”

 

In the name of productivity, this was probably a terrible idea because instead of writing down his schedule immediately, they ended up cooking dinner together with Francis trying to correct Arthur’s “improvements” to one of the other recipes he had been given the previous week.

“It tastes just fine to me, frog!” He pushed the ladle to the other man’s lips. “Here, try it!”

“Absolutely not, you put way too many spices in! Do you want to ruin my sense of taste?!”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! Just try it, for God’s sake!” As refined as his taste was, it wasn’t strong enough to save Francis from resisting Arthur holding a ladle to his mouth, which was hard for him to refuse, considering that Arthur feeding him was one of the many scenarios that Francis clandestinely fantasized about.

Internally apologizing to his taste buds, he took a sip of the soup. “ _Mon dieu!_ ” He exclaimed after forcing it down his throat. “It has _way_ too much flavor! Water it down, at least!”

Arthur frowned and examined the soup. “Hm...” He tasted it himself and held a pensive expression. “It still tastes fine to me.”

“You know what? I think that you probably charred off your taste buds with all that burnt food that you’ve been cooking all this time. If you want it to taste like actual food, then let me try to fix it, at least!”

“And why in God’s name would I do that?”  
“Because I’m going to eat it too and I don’t want to fall victim to your terrible taste!”

“How dare you say that to me, wanker!”

At that moment, they simultaneously noticed how close their faces were and they both grew silent. Both of them waited for the other to make the first move, but every time Francis made a slight movement, Arthur stopped, and vice versa. Finally, Arthur pulled away and smirked at the disappointed look on Francis’s face as he continued to tend to their cooking.

The two spent the rest of their evening having a (mostly) normal conversation with the occasional instances of Francis trying to make a move on Arthur, which ended him up with a smack on a different body part each time.

Late evening hit and once Francis was aware of the time, he suddenly had the mind to go home as soon as he could. The two sat down in the living room to map out their schedules so that they could see what days would be good for them to meet. After a bout of trivial arguments, they finally came to the conclusion that Wednesdays and Saturday afternoons would be the best times to meet.

And so, even though Arthur didn’t want to admit it to himself, he spent his days waiting for it to be Wednesday or Saturday so that they could break the monotony in this less-than spectacular life he led. Their activities together on their given days weren’t always the most exciting things, but they were still a nice change of pace. Sometimes they would go out for a little drink or visit each other’s homes. Other times, they would simply go out on errands and maybe even people watch until the stars began to shine in the distance of the darkening sky. Although they argued a lot about the tiniest things, it was unsaid but known to the both of them that they truly enjoyed spending time together, no matter what they did. All the while, the most sought out parts of their meet-ups would be the little things that happened between the two of them. From little “accidental” hand brushes to standing or sitting a little too close together, each of these little things were what would make the two of them look forward to mundane tasks such as buying boring things like new dishes, oil for their lamps or even picking up ingredients for dinner. For the first time in ages, Arthur could truthfully say he enjoyed his life once more. And maybe, just maybe, that he had fallen in love in the process.

 

“Arthur,” Francis casually called out to the other blond who was sitting in an armchair, reading a book.

“What is it?”

“What am I to you?”

“What do you mean?” He raised an eyebrow as he put his book down and began to sip at his tea.

“I mean, we’ve been seeing each other like this for about a month and we’re both _madly_ in love, so why don’t we act on it?” This caused Arthur to almost spray his drink across the room, but thankfully he stopped himself in time.

“I uh…” He was dumbfounded at how abruptly he brought up the status of their relationship.

“This is driving me insane! I want _more_ from our relationship!” Francis proclaimed as he dramatically stood up from where he lounged. “I want to take you out in the evenings on romantic dinners and kiss you under the moonlight! Maybe even make out again like we did that one evening!” He came closer and grabbed the armchair by the arms as he passionately continued. “I want to grab your beautiful _derri_ _ère_ and do dirty things with you in bed!” Arthur sat there with a dropped jaw and a reddened face. Francis closed the distance between their faces, leaning in for a kiss, but pulling away right before he could. He gazed at Arthur with longing in his indigo eyes. “But those are things that lovers do, and sadly that is not what we are right now.” He knelt down and grabbed Arthur’s hand. “Spending more time with you has only deepened my love for you, Arthur Kirkland, and I need to know if you feel the same way.” The sincerity in his words caught at Arthur’s heart. Hell, he even used his full name! Francis searched his eyes for a response, but Arthur remained silent. Without a word, he stood up.

“I…” He finally uttered, wearing a different expression now. “I don’t know…” Francis’s face slightly fell. “Hold on, let me continue, you idiot.” He said as he attempted to gather his bearings. “…I’m not sure why someone like you would even give a shit about someone like me, considering our circumstances. Everything about our current relationship is borderline wrong and even if we were to become lovers, it would just be several levels of unacceptable to everyone else.” Francis’s brows were now furrowed. Arthur could tell that he was preparing himself for the worst, so he continued. “But…”

“There’s a ‘but’?” Francis interjected attentively.

“Shut up, and let me finish.” Arthur interjected as he placed his index finger on the Frenchman’s lips and then proceeded to help him up so that they could meet eye to eye. “But I… also like whatever it is we have… A-and I feel the same way. I-in fact, I can’t ever get you out of my mind, so that must mean I’m in love with you too… So if that’s the case, then I say _fuck_ everyone else!!!” Without warning, Arthur grabbed Francis’s face and continued where they left off from that evening about a month ago.

 

The more they touched, the more their skins felt alive all over.

Neither of them could get enough of the other. The only thing that mattered to Francis was Arthur and the only thing that mattered to Arthur was Francis. Arthur grabbed at his long blond hair as his lover began to suck at the crook of his neck once more. This time, he knew that his touch was sincere and that this wasn’t just lust, but pent-up passion that they both had for each other that they now freely expressed. Their time spent together proved that much, at least. After he had made several red spots all over Arthur’s torso, he continued to kiss him, this time, being even rougher as their tongues met. A moment passed and they both let go to catch their breath.

“Arthur,” Francis said with a heated voice. “This is my limit. Anymore of this and I’ll want to make love to you until you can’t walk properly.” He chuckled as he laid his forehead on Arthur’s as they were both panting.

“Oh, is that a challenge?” Arthur smiled with all the provocation he could gather. This caught Francis off guard, which allowed Arthur the opportunity to push him off of the couch and onto the parlor’s plush carpet. He straddled the fallen young man and slowly removed his unbuttoned shirt, tossing it to the side. “I’d like to see you try.”

Francis gasped as he felt himself heat up with arousal. Never had he ever wanted someone as badly as he had wanted Arthur Kirkland right now. Everything about him—his tousled golden blond hair, his lean muscular figure, and most of all, his beautiful green eyes which challenged him with their gaze—all that Arthur was had him completely under his spell.

But unfortunately, that would have to wait a little bit. “Arthur,” Francis panted as he took a hold of him. “I think we should take this upstairs.”

Arthur’s face lit up at the realization that they were about to do it on the carpet and he immediately got off and helped Francis up. “Oh… Then do you have the uh…” It was amazing to Francis how he snapped out of his heated state and into an embarrassed young man almost instantly.

“Yes, I have _that_ upstairs. I don’t think you’d want to go without it, considering what I’m about to do with you.”

The thought of this got Arthur excited. “Well, alright. Let’s be off, then.”

After retrieving his shirt, the two quietly made their way upstairs. It was a little bit past midnight, so Francis assured him that everyone else in his home should be asleep by now and nobody should be able to hear them from his room.

“Now, where were we?” Arthur asked as he and his lover began to undress. Francis produced a small glass bottle from one of his drawers and tossed it at him from across the room. “Ah, that’s right.” The two of them looked at each other, more than ready for what was to come.

 

That night was an absolutely amazing night for the both of them.

Not only did they enjoy making love until all of the sheets were tousled and loosened from the bed, but they discovered a few things as well. Arthur learned that the human vocal cords could make a very extensive range of sounds that it was enough to make him question if those sounds were actually being produced by him and Francis. On the other hand, to Francis’s delight, he learned that Arthur’s utterances whenever he built up to his climax were undoubtedly in _French_.

The two now lay beside each other as they could see the stars fade into the sky which was gradually turning lighter shades of blue. Their moment of peace was accompanied by the sounds of the birds beginning their day in the luscious green trees nearby. They had both woken up about an hour ago and had simply decided to lay there in each other’s arms and talk. “So, ‘Not in a million years,’ you said?” Francis teased at his lover as he recalled what he had said the first time they shared a bed together.

“Oh, shut up!” Arthur hissed. “Also, you’re lucky I don’t have work today since it’s Wednesday.”

Francis laughed. “That’s true. So much for honoring our allotted days, huh?” The two of them laughed.

“So anyway, what _do_ you do for a living, frog? It never really occurred to me.” Arthur covered their bare bodies with the closest sheet he could find, since the morning air was beginning to get cold. “To be honest, I thought rich people just have the money flow in from Heaven or something.”

Francis chuckled at that. “For me, I guess you could say it works like that.”

“Are you bloody kidding me?” He asked flatly. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m nobility in France. I simply came to the colonies with a lot of money and invested in the right places, so I don’t really need to work now.” He shrugged.

“I hate you more already.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Also, what’s a prissy noble like you doing in the colonies, anyway? Why didn’t you go to Canada with all the other frogs?”

“I lived in Canada for a time, actually, but I moved here.”

“Why is that?”

“I find it more exciting here. Not to mention, a lot more kinds of people to meet and maybe even get a little naughty with.” He winked as he grabbed Arthur’s behind, only to be teasingly punched in the jaw.

 “How come you decided to come to the New World if you were nobility back across the pond? Were the French people not good enough for you or something?”

“Oh, uh…” Francis now had a shy expression upon his face. “Let’s just say I’ve slept with a lot of the other nobility… and possibly one of the mistresses of King Louis XV…”

“I’m sorry, what…?” Arthur was quite shocked, yet somewhere deep down he wasn’t surprised, considering how great he was under the sheets.

He now scratched the side of his chin, recalling the time. “He may or may not have found out and demanded that I either leave Europe or get beheaded …” A nervous laugh escaped his lips as he recalled the look of sheer anger and jealousy on the king’s face.

The two sat there in bed as Arthur silently processed this new information. “I uh…” He was at a loss for words even when he finally spoke. He remained silent for a few seconds more. “Well, that was more interesting than I expected it to be…” He looked Francis up and down. “Did you know who she was when you two were...?”

“ _Oui…_ The king didn’t satisfy her anymore and she sought my company _._ ” He admitted.

“Bloody frog,” he sighed, partially amused and partially jealous of this woman he had never met.

“But I finished being promiscuous a few years after I came here, so you won’t have to worry about me doing anything like that.”

“Oh? And what made you stop?”

“I met someone. She became my wife for a few years. Her name was Alice.”

“Oh…”Arthur suddenly became more curious. “What happened?”

A sad smile was on his face. “She died years ago. Pneumonia.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…” Arthur wondered about this woman named Alice who was able to capture Francis’s heart so many years ago. What did she look like? What was she like?

“It’s all in the past now.” He reassured his lover with a smile. “I still miss her sometimes, but don’t you dare think that would ruin what we have, okay?” He leaned in closer to gently kiss Arthur on the cheek. “Speaking of which…” He pulled away to look him in the eyes. “If we’re going to continue what we have, there are two people I’d like you to meet.”

“Right now?”

“No, it doesn’t have to be. Sometime later today should be fine.”

“Alright,” Arthur said with one brow raised.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure they’ll like you.” He smiled reassuringly.

“Alright, then.”

The two shifted positions in bed. “Anyway, you also told me some interesting things the first night we met and you seem very reluctant about your job. How did _you_ end up here, _mon amour?_ ”

“Oh…” Arthur’s face hardened a bit as he held his arm where the black strip of cloth was wrapped around. He gave out a sigh. “I suppose it’s only fair that I let you know, though I won’t blame you if you don’t believe me.” He then proceeded to unwrap the cloth to reveal a ‘P’ branded on his forearm. “There it is. Are you satisfied now?”

He tilted his head. “What is it?”

“Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t really have had the need to know what this brand on my arm means, now would you?”

“What does it mean, then?” He asked as he gently reached out to touch it. “What happened for you to get this?” The pure concern in his lover’s eyes caused Arthur to shed some of his bitterness and crack a little smile. He looked down at the brand and began to explain.

“This painful little bugger means that I was convicted for piracy.”

Francis’s hand stopped moving as his finger touched the curve of the ‘P’ on his arm. He looked to Arthur with disbelief. “Wait, _you_ were a _pirate_?!”

“That’s right.  Since I was sixteen. I was the captain for about a year when I was twenty until we were captured by the bloody navy.” He huffed, recalling it with disdain. “The _one_ time I decide to make an alliance, the bastard sells us out and has us surrounded in a trap!” He sat up, ready to rant with full force, but the soreness in the lower half of his body prevented him from doing so. “Bollocks!” He exclaimed as the pain hit him hard and he slumped down. “You bastard, _this_ is your fault.” He gestured to his sore lower back.

“What can I say? You were the one who asked for it.” He shrugged smugly and gently held him closer. “Anyway, if you were convicted for such a thing, how did you end up here? How are you alive? What happened to your men?”

Arthur sighed as the memory recurred to him and he spoke with a sad smile. “They either died fighting or were hung at the gallows… I lost so many good men that day. Some captain I was.” He looked down at his arm and touched the brand. “After branding me with this bloody letter, I was to hang the next day, but my family found out about me and bribed my way out, then bribed the officials to keep their mouths shut about who I really was. My family was ashamed, of course, but I was still a Kirkland, so they had to keep me alive. That’s why they forced me into the British military and shipped me off to America where I can’t ruin the family’s reputation any longer.” He leaned his head back on the headboard. “So now, I’m just lucky to be alive thanks to those stiff bastards.”

“So that’s how it is…” Francis said, beginning to take in this information incredulously. He kissed him on the side of his head and they sat there for a moment in silence, still holding each other. It made sense, though. The story certainly clicked together from what he could tell. Now that he knew, there was no way he could blame Arthur for wanting to keep it a secret. “So you were from a wealthy family?”

“Correct.”

“Is that how you learned to speak French?”

“Wh—how did you know I could speak French?!” He suddenly snapped out of his bout of pensiveness.

“Oh Arthur, the first time you came to my house and got drunk, you denied speaking French to me, but you told me so in perfect _French!_ ” He laughed.

“I don’t recall any of that…” Arthur responded with eyes wide open. He crossed his arms. “See, this is why I rarely drink!” Francis continued to laugh and Arthur softly punched his bicep.

“Oh and also earlier, when you were moaning in French while you were about to co—“

“OKAY, ENOUGH ALREADY! I GET IT!” He covered Francis’s mouth. “Yes, I was a rich boy like you until I ran away.” He admitted as he let go of his mouth.

Francis held onto his hand and kissed it before he let it go. “And why did you?”

Arthur crossed his arms again and stared out the window with a creased brow. “My parents had awfully high expectations of me and my brothers. They wanted me to get married and have children as soon as I could, but unfortunately for them, I only enjoyed the company of other men…”

“Oh my…” Arthur uncrossed his arms and smoothly slipped his hand into Francis’s so that their fingers entwined.

“A little bit of an overreaction, I understand, but that’s what I thought was best at the time. I left home before they could find out I wasn’t interested in the women they set me up with.” He said with a little shrug. “And now you know why I’m reluctant to serve the crown that took away everything that I enjoyed.” His whole demeanor suddenly softened. “In a way, though, staying where I am like this my atonement for being selfish, I suppose… But anyway, it’s all in the past now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you’re right.” Francis said reflectively. Arthur let out an amused sigh. Francis turned to Arthur. “What is it?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about how right I was about a thought I had before.” A sardonic grin was on his face as he looked out the window while he leaned his head on the other man’s shoulder. “Both you and I ended up here because we were kicked out of our own countries. That goes for a lot of the people here, actually, so that truly makes the New World the trash hole of Europe!” He mused.

“Now that I think of it, you’re right.” Francis chuckled with amusement.

 “So…” Arthur said as he moved his lips to Francis’s ear. “Wanna go another round?” His tone sent a wave of energy down Francis’s spine and throughout the rest of his body.

They were now face to face. “I’ll have to admit, _mon amour_ , knowing that you used to be a pirate makes things even more exciting,” he said with a seductive smile.

“Good. And I feel like I’ve struck it big because I’m sleeping with the man who got kicked out of his own country for being preferred over the king of France as a lover.” Ignoring the pain in his lower body, Arthur smoothly straddled Francis who still sat on the bed. “So bring it on, love.” He said with a lower voice as he caught his lover’s lips and began their third round.

 

Once they were cleaned up and put on fresh clothes, the two went down for breakfast.

“So, who did you want me to meet?” Arthur asked as they both waited at the dining table for breakfast to be served.

“They should be here any second.” Francis smiled as an extra set of two plates of flapjacks were placed on the table by Ludwig who nodded and left right afterwards. As Arthur wondered who these two mysterious people were, Francis waited for the familiar pitter patter to come within audible range.

“ _Papa!_ ” Two little voices came from behind the opening door to the dining room. Francis stood up from the table to greet the two little boys that ran into the room. Arthur watched in astonishment as Francis displayed fatherly affection towards the two boys that had resembled him. The brothers appeared quite similar at first glance, but as he got a better look at them, he noticed their slight differences. The two sat down at the table and took notice of Arthur.

“Hello! Who are you?” The boy with slightly longer, wavier blond hair asked with a soft voice. His violet eyes examined the man curiously as he grabbed his utensils to begin eating. His eyes and hair were just like his father’s

“Yeah, what’s your name?” The other brother with slightly darker blond hair and blue eyes also examined Arthur as he sat next to his brother and began to messily fix his flapjacks the way he liked them. This boy had less of Francis’s features and more of his mother’s.

Francis introduced happily. “Arthur, these are my sons, Matthew,” he gestured to the boy with violet eyes, “and Alfred.” he said as he gestured to the boy with blue eyes who waved with a burst of energy. “Matthew, Alfred, this is Arthur.” At that moment, the boys’ eyes lit up in realization. Matthew’s lips formed an ‘O’ while Alfred stopped chewing and let his jaw drop, exposing the mush of food in his mouth for a few seconds before they began to ask a myriad of questions.

Arthur couldn’t catch everything that they were saying, but the most notable ones he caught included questions about what he did for work and more questions about his eyebrows which Francis snickered about in his seat. The most notable of all was the question that Alfred asked after the kids and Arthur got to know more about each other.

“So, _papa_ , does that mean Arthur is going to be our new mama?” Alfred asked.

The two adults sat there with eyes wide open and looked to each other with shock. Matthew took notice of their sudden strange behavior and sensed that his younger brother probably said something he shouldn’t have, so his jaw dropped open and he instinctually placed a hand over his brother’s mouth before he could say anymore.

“That is uh, up to him, _mon ch_ _er_.” Francis gave a nervous chuckle in reply as Arthur sat there, still a little bewildered. After that, Francis smoothly changed the topic and the four of them enjoyed their day, getting to know each other better, with Arthur keeping to only revealing things he deemed appropriate for them to know.

By the time late evening hit, Arthur decided it was time to go back home so that he could rest up for the next day. The boys were already tucked in bed, so Arthur and Francis got into the carriage driven by Ludwig.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about them sooner. I just didn’t know how to bring them up. You haven’t met them until today because our maid, Elizabeta, had been taking care of them while you were here. They seem to like you a lot, though.” An apologetic smile was on Francis’s face as he spoke.

“I’m glad,” Arthur smiled back. “They’re quite well-behaved for their age; I found them to be very pleasant. I’m the eldest of six, so I know a thing or two about children.” He looked forward and gave a tiny sigh. “It’s been a while, though. The youngest in my family was little Peter. I haven’t seen him since he was a little bit younger than your boys. Peter should be about… twelve by now. How old are Alfred and Matthew?”

“They are fraternal twins, so they’re both seven years old.” Francis replied proudly. “Alfred may cause trouble at times, but he’s a good boy and he means well. Usually Matthew keeps him in line.” A loving smile was on his face as he talked about his children.

The two continued to talk until they reached the building that contained Arthur’s flat. With a kiss goodbye, the two parted ways and anticipated the next time they would meet.

Francis happily hummed a tune as he entered through his front door. He heard one of the other doors inside his house slowly creak open. “I know you’re there _._ You know you’re supposed to be in bed, don’t you?”

“Yes, _papa_.” The two boys replied in unison. They opened the door further and ran towards their father. Each of them immediately grabbed either of his hands.

“How come you two are still up even though I already tucked you into bed?”

“We have questions about Arthur.” Alfred said as he was tucked back into bed next to his brother.

“Yeah, you talk about him every night, but we want to know more.”

“What do you want to know that I haven’t told you already?” He asked gently.

“You’re in love with him, right?”

This brought a light blush and a smile to his face. “Yes, very much so.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

His smile slightly fell. “Given time, I would love to, but they don’t allow that here.”

“Why not?” Matthew asked.

“Not everyone understands that it’s okay for two men to be in love with each other. It’s not fair, but that’s just how the world is.” He shrugged and placed his hands on the bed gently.

“But is he going to be our new mama?” Alfred asked again.

“Is he going to… replace _maman_?” Matthew added.

“So this is what’s been worrying you two, huh?” Francis gently smiled. “My dear ones, nobody can ever replace _maman_. She’ll always hold a special place in our hearts, isn’t that right?” The boys nodded. “But now I love Arthur the way I loved _maman_ , so in order for me to be able to do that, I made another special place in my heart for him. Do you understand?” The two thought for a moment and then nodded. “ _Tres bien!_ And if we all get along, we could maybe even be a family!” The thought of such a thing made Francis’s heart flutter. He excitedly looked to his boys. “Would it be okay with both of you to have two papas?”

The two thought for a brief moment until Alfred spoke. “I like that idea!” He turned to his brother. “Matthew, that means we can have more dads than all of the other kids!” He said excitedly. “Isn’t that awesome?!”

“Yeah, I like that idea!” Matthew smiled sweetly.

Francis’s heart soared. His boys already accepted Arthur and him being together, and better yet, they now accepted Arthur into their lives! How wonderful this felt to him! “What did I ever do to be blessed with children as wonderful as you two?” He said with joyful tears starting well up in his eyes.

“You had sex.” Alfred said matter-of-factly. The other two in the room stopped and their jaws dropped open.

“Alfred, you’re not supposed to talk about that!!!” Matthew said as he recovered and put a hand over his brother’s mouth.

“Hm, srry.” Alfred apologized with a muffled voice. Francis began to crack up and his sons watched as he laughed so hard that he was driven to tears.

“Well, you’re not wrong, _mon ch_ _er!_ ” He wiped his eyes and then roughed up their hair affectionately. “We’ll just leave it at that, no? Good night, my dear ones.”

“Goodnight, _papa!_ ” They both chimed in unison. Francis kissed the top of their heads and blew out the candles.

 He left the room and went back outside to Ludwig who was still waiting at the carriage with Feliciano now at his side. They were clad in warm clothing and waited in the cold night air.

“Sorry for taking so long, the boys woke back up.” Francis said as he greeted and walked towards the two. He got into the carriage and sat down. “Where will the meeting be held tonight?” He asked his servants.

“I have the directions right here!” Feliciano announced cheerfully.

“Make sure you don’t lose it.” Ludwig reminded him sternly.

“Yes, captain!” Feliciano saluted and held the map out for Ludwig to see with a big smile. “Let’s go!”

The three rode into the middle of the night. All the while, despite his wonderful day with Arthur and the kids, Francis couldn’t help but feel a tinge of uneasiness regarding what problems may arise due to his relationship with Arthur, considering his destination for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it so far! I wrote this a couple years ago for a FrUK star-crossed lovers event on tumblr and I decided to fix it and post it here because why not. I apologize for any historical inaccuracies. All my knowledge about colonial America is from an intensive US History class I took in high school years ago, google, and Assassin's Creed 3.  
> Anyway, let me know what you think! I'd appreciate it! Part two is where all the action happens!


	2. Chapter 2

Their relationship continued fervently and they still did their mundane tasks together along with all the other things they did together before, but now included the two boys in their agenda quite often.

Arthur grew to love them like his own and the boys grew to love him in return. Things were especially different between Arthur and Francis. Now they went out in the evenings on romantic dinners and kissed in the moonlight. Behind closed doors, they would make out quite often, and make love quite often during the unholy hours of the night when the rest of the populace did not stir. Both Arthur and Francis could easily say that this was the happiest that the both of them had ever been. It was almost as if they had found their other halves, for they were virtually inseparable.

However, the year was 1776 and revolution was rampant in the New World. The Declaration of Independence had been signed, and battles had been taking place in Massachusetts, Quebec, and even now New York. The two of them knew that it was even more dangerous to maintain their relationship, considering their circumstances, but they decided to remain stubborn together.

The reality of the revolution’s impending danger only truly hit them one day when they had a rendezvous in a cellar and heard yelling and then gunshots from outside.  The skirmish had lasted a few hours and it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place to stay, but the two waited out the battle inside the dark room, gripping each other’s hands and wordlessly listening to the gunfire and bloodshed that happened outside. When all was finally quiet, the two emerged from the cellar and peered upon the bloody aftermath. It was a horrifyingly unforgettable scene before the two of them. Several young men were dead on the ground and the smell of smoke and gunpowder filled the air and their lungs. There was an eerie, deathly calm surrounding the area, due to the fact that the battle had stopped only a short while ago. Francis squeezed Arthur’s hand further and began to speak in a hushed tone.

“Arthur…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think it’s safe for us to be in New York anymore…”

Thankfully, Arthur had not been ordered to fight in any battles just yet, but Francis was still ridden with worry about him. From then on, every time they saw each other, Francis would plead with Arthur to leave New York with him and move somewhere that they could stay away from all of the fighting. Arthur would have readily abandoned his post, but his commander had all the remaining men on duty at almost every hour because they were losing men with each battle. Arthur found this especially frustrating, because he was barely able to see Francis and the boys for quite some time. It took a while, but Francis and Arthur worked out a plan in which they would head to Canada and wait out the revolution until it was safe. They could figure out their way from there. It would work. It would definitely work and they could continue to be together. Not even some stupid revolution could get in their way.

 

Or so they thought. The air was tense at Arthur’s garrison, for battles had already been taking place in New York and now it was time that the loyalists had the opportunity to go on the offense.

“Here’s a list of names and information on people in New York who are financially and materially supporting the rebels thanks to some information leaked by one of the rebels we’ve captured and interrogated.” The commander announced as he posted a list of names on the wall of the garrison’s common room. “All of you were called here because you are all required to participate. We are to send several groups to capture these individuals as soon as possible and have them tried for treason. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!” They replied. After pushing his way through the crowd, Arthur examined the list. To his horror, a familiar name was on the list. No matter how many times he reread it, it was still the same name.

“Number twelve, Francis Bonnefoy.” He whispered under his breath as his heart sank. So many questions arose in his mind, but he pushed them aside, for keeping Francis, the boys, and everyone in their household safe was his top priority. _I have to warn them!_ He looked around. Everyone in the garrison had been scattered, preparing their weapons. If he was going to escape, it would be now, while nobody would notice.

Looking around, Arthur made sure nobody was looking his way and he took a deep breath. _Okay, I’ve got this. As long as I can get out of here, get to Francis, and warn everyone, everything will be absolutely fine._ But there were so many other things that _could_ go wrong. Thinking about them sent a wave of anxiety through Arthur’s body and he tensed up. _No! I’ve got to remain calm! Act like nothing is wrong. Act like NOTHING is wrong!_ With that, he proceeded to head towards the exit. _You’ve got this, Arthur. You’ve snuck out of even worse situations, you can certainly do this much!_ He picked up his pace. He was so close to leaving unnoticed! He could do this!

“Where do you think you’re going, Kirkland?” The commander called out from behind. He almost jumped as he turned around. “If you need to go out to relieve yourself, you’ve got to wait. We’re taking roll and dividing our forces right now.

 _DAMN IT ALL!_ Arthur screamed in his mind. “Yes, sir.” He said with gritted teeth. He barely listened to a word that was spoken as the groups of eight were formed. They were to start with the closest addresses on the list and Francis’s home was included, although it was about a mile away. Readily, Arthur volunteered for that group and with that, they were off.

 

The march there was absolutely stressful for Arthur, but thankfully, his anxiety was blended in with the other seven in the group who were also just as tense, but for other reasons.

Arthur worried heavily about how he would get everyone out of there safely. It was the seven of them against five, including himself, and there were also the boys to worry about. With whatever ounce of faith Arthur had left, he made a silent prayer to God that the plan he formulated would work out and that in the least, Francis and the boys could escape unharmed. Preferably everyone else would be safe as well, but if it came down to that, he knew where his priorities would lay.

Arthur’s group could see the residence of Francis Bonnefoy and he began to grow dizzy. _No! I will not have this!_ He slapped himself and took a deep breath. _You were bloody Captain Kirkland! You’ve plundered tons of ships, killed countless people, and you used to risk your life on a daily fucking basis! You’ve even got the scars to prove it! Now man up and pull yourself together if you know what’s good for you!_

But years ago, as Arthur Kirkland the pirate, he acted as he pleased, knowing that he had nothing much to lose. Now stripped of his title and reputation, he was simply Arthur Kirkland and he had everything that he had left to love at the verge of loss now. He took a deep breath and knew what to tell himself to be able to pull it together: _Do it for Francis_.

Just like that, he assumed command of the group, and they did not question him, for he seemed to know what he was doing. He laid out a strategy. He and three others were to take the front door and the other four will guard and take the back of the house in case they tried to escape from the back, which made sense to them. In Arthur’s mind, however, he was thinning out the numbers without their notice, which would make it easier to take them on and give Francis and the boys enough time to escape, at least.

Knocking came to the door. Just as Arthur predicted, Ludwig answered it. “Good evening,” he said, the same serious look was on his face as usual. “How may I help you gentlemen?” A look of suspicion was now on his face as soon as he recognized Arthur behind the three men, desperately mouthing to him that these men were here to take Francis. He wasn’t sure if he conveyed it in the most coherent way, but a look of understanding came to Ludwig’s face as the other men were explaining that the crown had business with his master. Calmly, Ludwig waited for the men to finish and replied. “Very well, I will have him out as soon as possible. Please wait here.” Arthur gave Ludwig an incredulous look, but the butler remained calm and collected despite Arthur’s gaze, desperate for answers as to why he would let them in the house. The men stood with Arthur in the reception area, admiring the beauty of Francis’s home and started to poke around as soon as Ludwig was out of sight.

“What do you think you’re—“ Arthur caught himself before he could stop the man from touching anything. He didn’t want to risk slipping anything that gave away that he was associated with them. “Never mind.”

Moments later, Ludwig reappeared with Elizabeta. Feliciano ran behind them and upstairs with an inhuman speed, which alerted the men.

“Hey! Where is that one going?!”

“He’s doing as I asked,” Ludwig replied. Despite calmness in his voice, there was a menacing, intimidating aura behind his words which Arthur also picked up on.

The maid spoke. “Would you men like any refreshments while you wait? Master Bonnefoy may take some time to get ready.” Elizabeta’s smile and sweet voice provided a huge contrast to Ludwig’s intimidating demeanor.

“No, we need to talk to your master right away. Bring him this instant.” One of the men demanded.

Ludwig replied coldly. “I said I would have my master out. I never said I would give him to you.” He looked to Arthur and then to Elizabeta and nodded. “NOW!!!”

Arthur assumed it was the signal to attack the men and he grabbed his musket and hit one of the men in the head with its heavy end. Elizabeta finished him off with a pistol hidden behind her back. Her face held a cold expression towards the man she had just murdered as the bang resounded throughout the house. Arthur gazed in bewilderment at how calm the maid was for just murdering someone and then looked to Ludwig who attacked one of the other men with ease. It was then that he realized why Francis’s butler was built like a soldier. He also served as their guard along with the other servants! However, Arthur did not have time to linger on that thought for long. There were two left. Ludwig had one on the floor and was beating him unconscious while the other tried to run away and warn the others.

Arthur chased him down, but the tricky bastard somehow managed to find the backdoor where the others were waiting. He backed up, loading his musket while Arthur was fast approaching with his own musket at the ready. The man had backed up to the door and banged on it. “It’s a trap!!! Kirkland is with them! He’s betrayed us!!!” Arthur shot at the man, but missed as he ducked out of the way. He cursed under his breath and tossed the musket to the side. This gave the redcoat another chance and he shot at Arthur. Arthur barely made it in time to have the bullet hit somewhere that wasn’t vital. It grazed his left bicep and he yelped out in pain.

“You’re going to regret that, you bastard!” He growled. Ignoring the sounds of the men trying to break down the door, Arthur lunged at the man before him and wrestled with him on the floor.

“Why are you doing this, Kirkland?!” the man asked as they rolled around on the floor. “Why are you betraying your king?!” Arthur had dominated the other man and he now straddled him, squeezing his neck as he struggled beneath him.

“Don’t take this personally, Charles, I’ve never actually been fond of the crown.” He said with a smirk. This, however, distracted Arthur from seeing the musket that Charles grabbed and struck him in the face with, knocking Arthur off of him and leaving him with a bruised and bloodied cheek. “Damn you!” He howled as he reoriented himself from the blow and spat out some blood. “Do you want to know why I’m not fond of the crown?” Arthur asked as he removed his coat and anything else on him that hindered his movement so he could fight the way he was used to. “It’s because I once was a bloody pirate!!!” He tackled Charles once more and began beating him to a bloody pulp with the end of the unloaded pistol he carried on himself, this time, striking with intent to kill.

 Ludwig and Elizabeta had finished getting rid of the bodies in the front of the house and soon found a bloodied Arthur standing over a bloody corpse. “Arthur?” Their shock was set aside as they heard more banging at the backdoor.

 “Judging from the sound of the wood and lock, I’ll give them about a minute before they break through that door.” Arthur said as he looked to the two. “There are four of them outside and they are each armed with a musket and pistol.” He spat blood on the floor as he waited for their response.

“Alright then, Arthur, we’ve got this.” Elizabeta said as she pulled out her reloaded pistol and picked up a fallen frying pan. Ludwig also had a readied pistol along with a knife on him.

“We’ll handle this. Feliciano is guarding the boys, but nobody is with _Herr_ Bonnefoy.”

“Understood. I’ll find him immediately.” With that, Arthur darted off to find his lover. Ludwig and Elizabeta went on either side of the door frame and looked to each other, signaling that either was ready to attack. They trained their pistols towards the door and waited, ready to fire once the men had broken through.

“Francis! Where are you?” Arthur opened the door to Francis’s office and was greeted with a pistol inches away from his face. At the end was the trembling hand of Francis who was now relieved that he didn’t have to use it.

“Arthur!” He exclaimed as he lowered the pistol and jumped at him for an embrace. He had the mind to shower Arthur’s face with kisses, but the blood and bruises only caused him to worry. “What happened to your face, _mon amour?!_ ” He held his wounded cheek and caressed it gently. Arthur placed his hand on Francis’s hand and spoke.

“We don’t have time, love. They’ve found out about you sponsoring the rebels and they’re after you.” He said with a serious expression. Francis’s face grew pale.

“I-I’m sorry you had to find out this” way, I—” His eyes grew wide. “Where are Matthew and Alfred!?”

“Don’t worry, Feliciano is with them. Ludwig and Elizabeta are taking care of the others by the backdoor.” Francis greeted this information with a sigh of relief. “Come along, now. The boys are waiting for you.” Arthur grabbed Francis’s hand and they darted off to where Feliciano and the boys were.

“ _Papa!_ ” The two boys ran to their father and hugged him. He kissed his boys on their foreheads and held them close, thankful for their safety. “What’s happening downstairs?” They looked to Arthur and grew even more fearful.

“Arthur, what happened to you?!” Feliciano asked before the boys could.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a few scratches.” He smiled and assured them. “It probably looks worse than it feels.” He lied. Feliciano, however, wasn’t fooled. He saw the blood on his arm and immediately tore off a strip of one of the boys’ blankets to wrap around his wound.

He asked as he began to bandage his arm, “What are they doing downstairs? Is Ludwig okay? How is Elizabeta?” Concern was laced on his features and it appeared as if he had been holding back tears the whole time.

“They’re fine. Just a few scrapes here and there from what I could see.” He reassured him.

“Oh _Dio_ , thank you, Arthur!” Feliciano smiled happily and wiped away an escaped tear. “Do you think it’s safe to leave?”

Just then, Ludwig and Elizabeta appeared through the open door, panting. “Ludwig! Elizabeta!” Feliciano cried as he ran towards the two. “Are you hurt?” He asked them both, examining the butler first and holding his hand that had some blood on it.

“We’re fine,” Elizabeta said with a smile. “We took care of them, but we should leave as soon as possible.”

“I’ll ready the carriage.” Ludwig said as Feliciano followed behind. Elizabeta ran to make sure that the master and his sons were doing well. Arthur went downstairs to check the damage that had been done.

When he arrived, he examined the surrounding area and counted four bodies by the backdoor. However, the fourth was the corpse of Charles that Arthur had just killed not too long ago. What happened to the fourth one that was supposed to be at the backdoor?

“Bloody Hell,” Arthur muttered to himself as he finished checking outside. He wasn’t there. Arthur grew anxious and ran upstairs immediately. “Elizabeta! Where was the fourth man at the backdoor?”

“There were only three. Why?” She said curiously.

Arthur paused. “You all need to get out of here as soon as possible!” he said with a horrified look on his face. “They’re coming back with more!”

Everyone instantaneously looked at each other. Francis and Arthur carried each of the boys and ran down the stairs to the side door, making sure to cover their eyes from the sight of their ruined home and the lifeless bodies lying on the floor. Ludwig was still preparing the horses with Feliciano and Elizabeta. Francis, Arthur, and the boys climbed inside the carriage. They heard voices approaching the manor. Everyone grew silent, for they could tell who it was and why they were near.

“We’re not ready yet!” Feliciano hoarsely whispered to the passengers as Ludwig worked even faster. Arthur frowned. At that moment, he knew what he had to do. Looking to Francis, he pulled him in for a kiss and then pulled away. He got out of the carriage.

“I love you, Francis.” He said as he closed the carriage door to everyone’s dismay.

“What do you think you’re doing?! Arthur, get in!” Francis sounded distraught as Arthur walked away and dropped his empty pistol to the ground. “Please!!!”

“If there’s anyone who can buy you all some time to escape, it would be me.” Arthur said with a solemn look on his face. He looked to Ludwig and Feliciano. “Where will you lot be headed? I’ll catch up in a little bit.” With tears in his eyes, Feliciano gave him the directions and Arthur nodded. “Alright, then.” He gazed at Francis for what may be the last time and gave an apologetic smile. That was all he needed. He walked back into the house.

As the carriage drove away, they heard the men yelling out Arthur’s name and charging him with treason.

The rest of the ride was wordless. The only sound coming from anyone at all during that trip was silent weeping.

 

There was a certain stillness in Arthur’s heart, a calmness that he did not expect to have when he was captured.

The world seemed to slow down as the men burst through the door and pointed their muskets at him, yelling out his name and charging him for betraying the crown by murdering his own comrades and helping a suspect escape. _Why was that?_ He wondered as his mind retreated within itself while he was beat to the ground and bound by his former colleagues.

“That’s right, they escaped this time.” He said under his breath as he was marched away to prison with a tiny grin on his face. Nobody heard him, because they were too busy spewing insult after insult at him. But he didn’t listen to them. Their stupid prattling could not shake the relief that Arthur felt. He felt relieved that he did right by the people he cared about for once in his lifetime. For this, he was relieved. For them, he was ready to die.

Arthur was stripped down to only his shirt and pants and thrown into a tiny, cold cell with a filthy mattress that looked like it had not seen a cleaning in decades. The stench was awful, but then again, everything in that godforsaken prison was awful. Arthur mused that the revolting environment of the prison was what would do him in before anything else could. That or the endless reprimanding from his commander who came to visit him in jail just to tell him off and ask him why he did it. To Hell with the commander and to Hell with the others. Captain Kirkland didn’t need to explain himself back then and Arthur Kirkland didn’t need to explain himself now. It was just like before when he was captured and imprisoned for piracy, except now he was happier knowing that he was able to do something good for once.

 He was no stranger to this feeling of impending doom, so when nighttime came, he calmly sat there and stared out the crack in the wall that served as a makeshift window. He looked to the same sky that he and Francis would sit beneath and watch as they talked and talked for hours. The same sky that they kissed each other beneath and shared secrets that they thought they would take to their graves. How he loved Francis and was happy to have shared such a love with him. Thinking of him helped to keep the panic from consuming him like it had before, and he was okay with this. Several hours passed and exhaustion finally caught up with him, so he fell into a deep sleep.

Arthur awoke to banging on the iron bars of his cell. “Get up, you are to be hung today.” The guard barked at him.

“What, no trial?” Arthur challenged. The men opened the cell and grabbed him as he put up some resistance.

“No trial for traitors.” The man spat. Arthur glared back. If he was going to go out, he would go out with the bravery of Captain Kirkland.

Arthur hadn’t realized how dark the prison was until he was near the exit. Even the night sky was brighter than the trash hole prison.

Wait, why were they taking him to be hung in the middle of the night?

“It’s nighttime, you wankers, aren’t you supposed to publicly execute me?” He asked as he looked up to the guards. He gasped when he realized who it was. “Ludw—” Arthur was silenced before he could say anything. He looked to the other side and the person holding his other arm was a smiling Francis holding a finger over his lips. Relief suddenly overtook Arthur as they brought him outside.

“Feliciano is waiting with the carriage nearby, just hold on for a bit longer.” Francis whispered. They let him go and Arthur sighed in relief.

However, their relief didn’t last long, for they heard yelling. “Hey, you! Where are you going with that prisoner?!”

“Run!” Ludwig yelled as the three of them made a break for it. The surrounding guards were alerted and they were now being pursued. Gunshots were sporadically fired and sent fear into each of their hearts, for they didn’t know where the bullets would hit.

It all happened in a blur. They found Feliciano at the carriage and told him to start the horses as they ran after it and grabbed onto it as it took off.

Arthur sat down with relief. “That was close!” He smiled and looked over to his right. It was only him and Ludwig in the carriage and they both looked to each other with widened eyes. Arthur immediately opened the door, and there Francis was, still on the street and gripping his side which was now bleeding. He was growing tinier and tinier by the second as they drove away. He smiled and called out.

“Go on without me, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

“FRANCIS!!!” Arthur yelled out and attempted to jump out, but was held back by Ludwig. “Let me go!!!” He struggled, but Ludwig’s grip was too firm. “We can still save him! The guards haven’t found him yet! Ludwig, Feliciano, please!!!”

“I’m sorry, but if we go back for him, we’ll all risk getting caught. You saw them coming, didn’t you?”

“He told us to go even if this happ—“

“I don’t care! We can still save him!!!” Arthur continued struggling as Francis grew farther and farther away. “He’s your master, for God’s sake! Save him!!!” Arthur began to fight back with all the force he had left, but Ludwig was too strong.

Suddenly, everything faded to black.

 

 

It took some time, but in the depths of his heart, Arthur didn’t blame Ludwig and Feliciano for leaving Francis behind.

He understood the situation. It happened to him before with members of his crew, but none of those scenarios were ever as painful as this had been. None of them could ever compete with this overwhelming regret that Arthur had. He replayed the moment in his mind so many times and thought of what he could have done differently to have prevented this, but it was all for naught. He knew how to deal with death, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, know how to deal with losing Francis.

 The reality of him not being there anymore had not set in until he reunited with Alfred and Matthew and they asked where their father was. He hadn’t remembered how long it had been since he cried the way he did. He couldn’t stop the tears and emotion from spilling over.

_That was my love._

_My best friend._

_My soulmate, Francis Bonnefoy, that stupid, selfless git._

_He saved my life twice._

_We could have saved him, but we didn’t._

_What went wrong?_

_What could I have done to have him back here by my side right now?_

_I had plans for him, dammit!_

_Who said you could fucking die, you fucking idiot?!_

Perhaps when the time came, they could meet in another life so they could make up for the time they should have had together. But perhaps those thoughts were just something to quell the crippling loneliness that the living would feel upon losing someone so dear to them. It felt strange, the idea of living in a world where Francis no longer existed.

If it weren’t for Alfred and Matthew, Arthur would have been driven insane by the regret he felt. But he held on for them. He loved them and they loved him. They gave him purpose and he became the father that they were so suddenly deprived of because of him. They didn’t blame him because they understood, and they made sure that he knew that as well.

They would live with this feeling of grief for years to come.

 

~

 

“Dad!” Matthew and Alfred called out in unison to Arthur, who was now sitting in his plush chair, working on his embroidery.

“What is it?”  He looked up to see his two boys who were now ten years old with curiosity as they rushed to him with tears in their eyes. “What’s the matter?” He suddenly grew worried and opened his arms to embrace them.

“Th-there’s someone at the door!” Matthew said as he and his brother sniffled.

“Are you afraid of strangers now? What’s this fuss all about?” He asked with a frown. “I know you’re both much tougher than that.”

“N-no, it’s not that, it’s just—”

“He wants to see you right now!!!” Alfred interjected.

“Alright then.” Arthur steadily got up and made sure he had his loaded pistol behind his back, should this intruder cause any trouble. “If something happens to me, I want you two to find Ludwig, Feliciano, or Elizabeta and tell them where in the floorboards our important documents are.”

“No, you won’t need that, dad!” Matthew protested. “It’s okay, really!”

“Better safe than sorry, my boy. It’s an old habit, I suppose.” Arthur replied as he approached the door of their large Canadian home.

Opening the door, Arthur discovered a familiar silhouette facing away from him. Instantly, he dropped the gun.

At first, all Arthur could do was stare as he and the visitor locked eyes. His heart beat faster with each step he took towards the man.

“All these years and you didn’t even send a letter to let us know?!” His words were shaky as he spoke.

“I figured that I would get tired of waiting for a reply every day, so I went to find you myself.” Francis shrugged as he gave out that same arrogant smile that Arthur always associated him with.

 It was almost as if those three years without him hadn’t happened. Francis still looked as he did in the past and in Arthur’s dreams. Arthur’s eyes began to water and he embraced his love. His best friend. His soul mate. His stupid, selfless git.

“You bloody idiot…” Francis could hear that he was now crying on his shoulder and he followed suit as they held each other close for a while. Arthur’s grip around his waist was tight, which was where the bullet left its damage on him, so this caused a little pain and he winced.

“You’re hurting me, Arthur.” He said lightly as he wiped Arthur’s and his own tears away with a smile.

“Ah, sorry.” Arthur loosened his grip a little, but refused to let go of Francis.

“I’ve missed you so much, _mon amour!_ ” He smiled and stroked his hair, finally taking in his lover’s presence after so long.

“How? How did you…?”

“I was able to hide away while they were looking for us. I had some allies in the area who were able to help me and keep me from bleeding out too much. They’re also how we got those disguises. It took me a long time to recover, but the moment I was able to move around on my own, I immediately started looking for you and the boys. It took me a while to find out where you went and even longer to get here, but I somehow managed. I came here as soon as I could, but I’ll admit, it’s hard to travel or send letters around the colonies when you’re a wanted man.” Tears were also in his eyes again and his voice shook as he spoke. “But now I’m finally home.”

“Then welcome home, love.” Arthur said as he pulled away and grabbed Francis’s face to kiss him with all the love he contained in his heart for him.

 

Arthur Kirkland used to find himself disliking quite a lot of things more often than the average person. He mused that this attitude of his is what got him to where he was in the first place: a long way away from home, but now surrounded by the people he loved and cared about. He had hoped that the New World would be better than Europe, and in so many ways it was, for he had found love, a place to belong, and a purpose. He now saw so much more beauty in the world than he had ever hoped to see, and that was something he liked quite a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> The gratuitous poem near the end was low-key inspired by the grief i felt at the sudden passing of my dog around the time I was writing this. Mmmm, soak in that genuine grief poem.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading again! Let me know what you thought! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it so far! I wrote this a couple years ago for a FrUK star-crossed lovers event on tumblr and I decided to fix it and post it here because why not. I apologize for any historical inaccuracies. All my knowledge about colonial America is from an intensive US History class I took in high school years ago, google, and Assassin's Creed 3.  
> Anyway, let me know what you think! I'd appreciate it! Part two is where all the action happens!


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